Disclaimer: I don't own Dark Angel or any part of it.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: M/A
HIGH ATOP THE CITY
She is high atop Terminal City
She never saw it coming; all she remembers is the beautiful face looking at her, his soft features lost in a grimace of pain. He looks so helpless. Pain so deep his soul cries out, his mouth moves, she hears nothing but a whiz of a bullet, and she reads her name on his lips. She feels a pinch of pain in her chest.
Her gaze moves up to catch his eyes.
She sees him again his eyes welling up with tears, she feels her eyes burn with pain. They collapse together in a heap, either one knowing who blurred to whom first.
The smell is everywhere; she feels it flowing everywhere everything soaked in red, heavy with a life draining out.
It drips from her fingers sending drops down her hands.
She looks to the heavens looking for a chance, one more moment to hear him laugh, to take in that stupid smirk and slap the smug smile of his face. Maybe to have one more verbal spar and have one more night for him to hold her. To have one more moment to tell him everything she needed to say. God how she loved him.
Her shirt is hung close to her skin blood mixing with sweat and tears. He's holding her hands in his.
The commotion below them is drowned out. Familiars and transgenic everywhere fighting for their life, this is the war the end or the beginning of a life of freedom.
High atop the streets of Terminal city, a stray bullet from the streets below is all it took.
What freedom is left when she only wanted to share it with him?
For some reason the grasp of their interlaced fingers falter, she looks again into green eyes tear stained and searching, searching for something in her soul. Pleading something she cannot understand.
I love you, why can't she hear him say it; she strains to hear him say it over and over and over again. The raspy ness of his voice the pain stricken crackle in his words, he's out of breath. Please don't let this be the last time she hears him say it.
She barely manages to let an, I love you escape her lips; the tears are too much and the pain in her chest too much to bear.
Don't let this be the last time, if there is something, some higher power please. She is pleading a prayer hoping that this is not the last time she will ever be with this man.
He is high atop Terminal City.
He never saw it coming. All he remembers was that feisty brunette telling him to be careful. They are facing each other ready for the battle below. She is all he sees. He feels a pinch of pain in his chest, he's still looking, her beautiful face, her soft features changed by a grimace of pain. Pain so deep he didn't hear the bullet. He hears himself say her name
His gaze catches her. Her eyes are burning with tears about to fall. His eyes mimic the pain he sees in her. He blurs, she blurs he can't remember who got to who first.
He can smell it everywhere so thick in the air, He feels it flowing soaking everything in deep rich red. A life is draining out.
It drips from his fingers sending drops down to his feet. It is coating the gravel beneath them. It's a mismatched portrait of red and gray.
He sees her look to the heavens with pleading eyes. He watches her looking for a chance. He only begins to pray, pray to hear her yell and smack his stupid smirk from his face. He needs her to keep his smug smile in check and to have one more night to hold her. To have his moment to tell her every thing he needed her to hear. He loved her with everything he had
Blood was soaking him, why was he so weak. He just wanted to be able to hold her here and now.
The commotion below them is drowned out. Familiars and transgenic everywhere fighting for their life, this is the war the end or the beginning of a life of freedom.
High atop the streets of Terminal city, a stray bullet from the streets below is all it took.
What freedom is left when he only wanted to share it with her? Only her, it had always been her.
For some reason the grasp of their interlaced fingers falter, they look into each other's eyes.
I love you he says, he says it again and again over and over, and his voice coming out raspy his throat is dry, his words crackle but the truth behind his words doesn't cave. Please don't let this be the last time she hears me say it.
She says it barely audible but he hears it for the first time. I love you. She loves him.
Don't let this be the last time. He prays a prayer he had never prayed before don't let this be the last time I am with this woman.
They are atop Terminal City.
The Seattle air shifts and Joshua's flag follows.
They had won, they were free transgenics were free, a dream of every single one fallen in these streets.
Freedom for those in the dark, they can now step into the light, Joshua's flag swings in the crisp Seattle air.
Everyone was present, everyone who had survived, bruises broken bones and all. Mourning the losses of that week.
It was a stray bullet, they had lost their leaders, and they had lost the two people who had given their nation of people hope.
A stray bullet piercing both of their leaders atop the city.
They had died together in each other's arms. With a love surpassing all odds. Their dream had come true and now their dream lives in all of us.
Today they are remembered together, like how they would have been for the rest of their lives.
High atop Terminal city, they never saw it coming.